fuckall

my life can be
summed up
in increments
of two hour parking
in those fragments
between psyching myself
up for a conversation
to staring at the sparrows
flying through the trees
the long stretches
spent choking
in parking garages
empty lots
hiding from
the world
the sun
responsibility
always stuck
in the car with me

tapping silver hammers
against the
crystalline structure
of repetition
pervading the chaos
of existence
hoping to make a crack
then watch as slivers
fall into the great
greasy gears of entropy
forcing the system
to sputter and fail

two hour visitor parking
should be etched
in the soil
on my unmarked grave
a vagrant roaming
talking to birds
because everything
is a ball of anxious fuckall

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